Venice
by B.W.T
Summary: She can feel it, following her, the bullet that never hit. Venice is around every corner, hiding in his eyes, trickling down her back like cold ice...


**This is an odd bit of something that formed rather haphazardly in my head. It's not very heavily influenced by humor, despite that being my usual setting for fanfiction, but I think it holds it's own in a rather... interesting way.**

**Then again, what do I know? I'm just the writer.**

**Disclaimer (I always forget these): I don't own Labyrinth, or Harry Potter. The idea and plot (or lack there of) are mine, though.**

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**London**

It was the bullet in Venice that should have done it. The gun had been pointed right at her chest, she'd heard him pull the trigger, she'd felt the whoosh of air…

The clock had struck thirteen that night.

Now, back in London, lying on yet another hotel bed, with a goblin curled against her side like some demonic kitten, she thought about it all. The bullet, the way the mugger had stared at her in wonder when he realized she wasn't dead, the way a moment later he'd been covered in small, screaming goblins, all demanding blood for his attempt to harm her.

The way the sunrise had felt a few hours later. Streaming in through her window, warming her skin, like the first sunrise after that night when she was fifteen.

Sarah Williams closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath, before she gently lifted herself away from the goblin, who smacked his lips and remained sleeping, and grabbed up her coat. She knew from the added weight that at least one pocket had another goblin in it, but after years of having them around, it didn't bother her at all.

She left the hotel quietly, enjoying the early morning light as she walked the still sleepy streets. She knew right where she was going, one of her favorite hang outs, The Leaky Cauldron. Magic, wizards, witches, it made her skin tingle pleasantly to be around the power. She'd learned to keep a low cover though, those who frequented the pub – herself included, actually – weren't all that trusting.

You couldn't blame them though, she knew about the war, and the recent escape of one "Sirius Black". She'd seen his picture, actually. He'd been wild looking, she remembered that, but she'd also seen something in his eyes – something notably _not_ wild, something trying to make itself heard.

Sanity, she mused, was like that. You could bottle it up and lock it away, but it always got out again, settling itself back into it's comfortable notch and reminding you what your name is, how you got where you are, and then how to make the coffee you so desperately needed because certain Wizard drinks shouldn't be attempted alone. Like fire whiskey.

With that in mind she stepped into the pub and nodded to the owner, ordering a tamer drink, namely tea. Earl Grey, to be more precise. It was after she had the tea and had settled down that she noticed the boy coming down the stairs, all messy hair and dark. She knew about him, too, _Harry Potter_. He was the resident hero; a schoolboy who'd saved the world more then once. She'd heard from one of the witches who sometimes chatted with her that he'd blown up his aunt. That'd made her laugh, imagining some sharp-faced woman as a balloon, floating towards the moon.

"Sarah!" A young witch, by the name of Cydney, skipped over to her, throwing a strand of light, almost golden, brown hair over one shoulder. "How'd you fair last night? You looked pretty sloshed when I saw you leave." She asked, sliding into the seat across from her friend, and noting the way the darker haired woman nursed her cup of tea.

"I did fine, Cyd." Sarah stated calmly, taking another long sip of the Earl Grey. "Good to hear." Cydney said, "Anyway, are you up to a bit of shopping in the Alley?" Sarah frowned, studying the way Cyd's eyes seemed to glisten with mischief. "Maybe, depending…" She said carefully, wincing at the sound Cydney made, "Good, good, come on." She said, jumping up and pulling an unwilling Sarah away from her tea.

A few minutes later, in Flourish & Blotts, Cydney finally got around to the topic she'd been wanting to bring up with her friend since she'd skipped in that morning. "Do you remember when I told you about Hogwarts?" She asked Sarah, who was distractedly looking through some books on fairy tales. Her friend, still suffering from a hangover she suspected, gave a grunt in reply. "Well, there's a job opening, other then the usual Dark Arts one. They need an Assistant Librarian, I heard about it from the grape vine," She grinned, watching as Sarah slowly looked up, a mild distrust in her green eyes, "and I passed your name up the grape vine too. You know you need a job, Sarah… and the current Headmaster is very open minded."

Sarah sighed, "You told him the thing, didn't you?" "I did not." "Yes you did, I can tell, you've got that look all over you." "What look?" "The telling look." Cydney shook her head, although mentally she was glad to see her friend finally starting to wake up, the sentences longer then three words were a good sign, and the arguing – that was a _wonderful_ sign. "Anyway, you've got an interview later today, to which I will take you," She cut her friend's protest off by adding, "willing or not."

"You're bloody abusive, I don't know why I put up with you." Sarah grumbled; setting the book down and following her friend out, decidedly ignoring the amused snort Cydney gave.

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**Hogwarts**

Mortal magic, as the goblin's called it, was an interesting thing, Sarah thought to herself as she strolled among what seemed to be the thousands of shelves of books in the Hogwarts' library. It wasn't nearly as potent as the Underground magic, but it could do amazing things.

Like this castle, it was brisling with magic, it leaked out of every crack, wafted up from the stones when she stepped on them, whispered to her when she lay in her bed late at night. It made paintings move, ceilings reflect the sky like some giant 3D photo, and stairs move.

At least, she hoped it was magic that made the stairs move.

Noting the time, the young woman slipped from the library and headed back towards her room. The students would be arriving tomorrow, giving her something more active to do, provided any actually came near the library for the first few days.

Sarah passed Dumbledore on the stair and gave him a respectful tilt of her head, but didn't stop to chat. The elderly man, luckily, didn't seem too interested in talking either, hurrying off to some important task she couldn't be bothered to wonder about.

In her room, she undid her hair and let the brown curls fall loosely down her back. A goblin was there to catch the clip she'd been using, eagerly. They loved the strange contraptions she used, enough so that she'd learned early on to keep a large number of cheap ones around, so that the good ones weren't wasted.

Pulling a notebook from her bag she settled herself at her desk and flipped open to one of the pages, tracing her pencil down the growing list of magical oddities she'd found in the castle.

Underneath that, a list of the various secret passageways, which to Sarah – who had an almost inhuman sense of direction, and an eye for things that weren't what they seemed – weren't very secret at all.

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**Hogwarts**

**The Next Day**

**Dinnertime**

The students were noisy. That was the first thing she noticed, but it was quickly pushed to the back of her mind, her interest focused more on trying to decide if one student from a certain house was any different from another student in a different house.

Some, she decided, noticeably fitted their house. The boy with silvery hair in Slytherin had a look of distaste that perfectly fitted what she'd learned about the 'Snake house'. In fact, the look almost reminded her of another light-haired male she'd known, except it lacked something.

Like, say, actual power.

Shortly after that, the sorting hat was brought forth, and a few minutes later a small troop of young, nervous looking children came in, looking absurdly small in the room. Like she had the students already sorted, Sarah studied them, trying to decide if she could tell just from looking who would go where.

Up above, the giant 3D picture of the sky thundered. Absently, Sarah let her eyes drift upwards, amusing herself for a few minutes by watching the way the clouds changed.

Because of this, she missed most of the sorting ceremony, although it wouldn't have meant much to her anyway – the new students names had yet to really connect to a face for her, until she met some of them.

After the sorting, Dumbledore got up, and went forward to give, what she assumed, was his customary "Welcome back" speech. She listened as he listed where was off limits, and then introduced the new teacher, Remus Lupin, who she'd met earlier, and then her, encouraging her with a wink to stand and bow.

It was interesting, she decided, that he didn't mention she was a muggle by their standards. Maybe he didn't want to encourage anything.

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**Hogwarts**

The first week of the school year had been, in her opinion, uneventful. She'd heard that the silvery-haired boy, Malfoy, had been attacked in Care of Magical Creatures, and she couldn't help the feeling that it was probably well deserved.

Thoughtfully, she gathered a few loose books off one of the tables and started to sort through them, moving her way silently among the shelves as she put them away.

Maybe it was because she was so quiet, but a moment later someone ran into her and knocked her over, making the books scatter. Frowning, she'd turned to find herself face to face with one of the older students, who, although seeming distracted, quickly helped her gather the books, offered an apology, and then hurriedly left.

Shrugging it off, she returned to putting them away until Hermione came to find her to ask for her help, or rather, if she _needed_ help.

Sarah had learned only a day or so in that the Library's most frequent visitor was going to be Hermione Granger, a third year of surprising brilliance. She'd also learned, after listening to the girl talk for some time, that she was friends with Harry Potter, and the ginger-haired boy that tagged along with the two.

This information was filed away, but mostly forgotten. Hermione liked to have someone to talk to, and Sarah didn't mind listening.

It made her forget Venice, for awhile, at least.

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**October 31**

**Hogwarts**

Halloween. The word sent the oddest shiver up her spine, like someone was trailing icy fingers along her soft skin.

She saw Venice around every corner in the library; she could have sworn she heard the shot. Could have sworn that for a moment, Hermione's features were the muggers, looking at her as if she were alien.

As the day progressed, Sarah got more and more agitated, drawing the disapproval of Madam Pince, and the concern of the students who saw her. It even traveled up to the Headmaster somehow, who caught her in the hall, asking if everything was all right. She'd employing her acting skills, assuring him everything was fine, but maybe she'd laid it on a bit thick, because she knew his eyes had followed her when she walked away.

At the feast, a clock appeared on her empty plate. One with thirteen hands. She'd hidden it quickly, stuffing it into the pocket of her dark blue robes.

The magic got stronger, tickling at the back of her neck, but it still didn't compare to the feeling she remembered from the Underground.

She'd been grateful to go to bed, only to be awoken sometime later with news that the Fat Lady had been attacked. The goblins had, at once, wanted her to leave – they didn't trust the Aboveground as it was. She'd waved them off though, and gone to investigate.

When everyone was moved into the Great Hall, she'd helped search the castle for the man who's eyes hid sanity. She hadn't found him, but she had found that wherever she went, she could sense someone watching her.

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**Six days later (Nov. 6****th****)**

The dementors had gone to the Quidditch match. They'd attacked the Heroic Schoolboy… and they'd made the goblins even angrier then before. The one that'd been in her pocket at the time had disappeared, muttering about too much danger, and the mortal world not suiting Underground magic.

After the attack, she went to visit the Schoolboy in the hospital wing, along with a few other teachers. He seemed to be recovering, quite well for someone who fell as far as he did, and had to deal with what the dementors did.

It was that night at dinner that it happened.

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**The Great Hall**

He loved dramatics; she knew that, she knew he'd want the largest possible audience, just for the heck of it. Making some of the more easily frightened students scream just added to the thrill.

He'd rattled the windows, made the candles flicker, all like she'd remembered, and for a moment he'd plunged the room into complete darkness, before bringing the candles back to life, to show him in all his royal glory, standing in the center of the room.

Of course, he was a sight to behold. His open poet shirt framed his odd necklace perfectly, while at the same time drawing her attention to how firm his chest looked, something that was a lot easier to focus on then how tight his pants were. Or how sinful he looked in leather boots.

The expression on his handsome features, thought, wasn't the smile she remembered from their first meeting, instead it was angry, only a step away from growling.

"Sarah!" He barked out, and she would have laughed, if he hadn't looked so serious. She answered calmly, despite how aware she was of the fact that just about every eye in the entire room had turned to stare at her. "Yes, Jareth?" She debated on standing, certainly she wanted to, it seemed almost as if the situation called for it, but she didn't.

Instead, she watched him walk forward, his movements swift and forceful. "Come with me." He ordered, holding out one gloved hand.

Now, she did stand, and walked around the table, "Why?" She asked, leaning back against the polished wood, tilting her head to one side.

She saw Venice in his eyes.

"You aren't safe here."

His fingers flexed, and he looked as if he were about to take a step forward.

"I'm perfectly safe here." She answered suddenly, surprised at how harsh her words sounded. Jareth ignored the tone, though, and moved forward till he stood within a few feet of her. "No you're not, Sarah, this world is killing you."

She laughed then, even as she heard Dumbledore stand and saw Jareth weave some quick spell so that no one could come near them. "I'm serious, precious." He said, and she closed her eyes.

Venice was behind her lids.

"Why now?" She managed to ask, and felt him take the last few steps, so that he stood directly in front of her. "It took me this long to break your words, precious." He ghosted a hand over her hair, bringing a smile to her lips. "I don't want to go." She whispered, but it was half hearted, and they both knew it. She opened her eyes, looking directly into his. "You're dying, precious." He reminded her, sadly. "You've been dying since Venice."

There it was, in his words now. It was following her, the bullet still waiting to strike.

Slowly, he pulled her against him, held her weakening body to his warm, strong one. "Let me take you away, Sarah." He whispered softly, "Let me save you." He stroked her dark hair, listened to her heartbeat, the heartbeat he'd been trying to save since Venice. Now all he needed was for her to say yes. Say yes, so he could save her. Take her away from the mortal world that was so dangerous.

She looked up at him again and he lost himself in those green eyes of hers, the bright jewels that carried such a terrible pain.

"Say yes, precious, let me save you." He whispered, watching her lips part as the answer came out, almost like a sigh.

"_Yes." _Venice was in the word, he could hear it, hear the rain, hear her footsteps against the ground, but none of that mattered, because now he could save her.

The doors of the Great Hall slammed shut, and they were gone.

Amongst the confusion that followed, no one noticed the bullet that dropped from thin air, right where Sarah had been standing.

"_She saw Venice in his eyes,_

_Saw her death behind the bookshelf,_

_And when she turned,_

_She could have sworn that the student,_

_Was her mugger all over again."_

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**I'm curious, would anyone want to see Venice turned into a full blown multi-chaptered story? It probably wouldn't be a crossover with HP if I did do that, but it'd still be interesting. I think. Eh. Opinions are welcome.**


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